Bound
by Rosemoss
Summary: NEW CHAPTER! Finally i kno im sorry. Harry and Ron are gone, who can save her now? R for self harming and violence
1. Anouther humiliation

Disclaimer-: I do not and will never own any of the characters, only the  
  
plotline and he new spin.  
  
A/N: -This is a dark fic with cutting and bullying and stuff so if you don't want to read that sort of stuff then don't. Rated R.  
  
Bound  
  
Chapter 1: another year another humiliation.  
  
"Well here goes nothing" A 17-year-old girl surveyed a train station packed with students. These students are no ordinary students. They are witches and wizards!  
  
The girl however was used to this scene now, being in her 7th and final year she was now a veteran to this situation. She was about 5'8" with straight, chestnut hair that looked as if it had been tamed over the summer. She wasn't magnificently pretty but they used to say that she had potential. She had brown eyes that on closer inspection flashed green and amber when they caught the light. She had strangely pale skin seeing as it was the end of summer, but her face was slightly be freckled, suggesting that she had been on holiday this year. She was wearing a black vest top and grey hipster jeans that helped her to blend nicely into the crowd where she felt safe. She had been doing it for the past 7 years; she was now a master at it. Yet this time she had caught someone's eye. Someone's cruel silver evil eye, which was the eye that she had been desperately avoiding.  
  
"Oi mudblood" she ignored him. Looking anywhere except for those cruel eyes. "Mudblood!" the wall became suddenly very interesting. Oh shit she thought. He's coming over! Oh shit oh shit oh SHIT! She decided her best bet would be to face him rather than have him chase her down the station, but she did so slowly and begrudgingly. In the first 5 years she had been able to stand up to him, talk back to him and, hell, she even slapped him once! But now... She turned slowly on her heel and gave his eyes the most confident masked gaze she could muster. "Yes Malfoy?"  
  
It had been in 6th year that she had finally given up and allowed him to call her mudblood. Well I think actually allowed him is the wrong word. It's more like stopped protesting. After her two best friends disserted her and went off with their quidditch whores she lost all hope. She buried herself in her work usually yet she no longer called out answers. She rarely talked to people around her. In fact she rarely talked at all. She sailed around in her dreams where she was the strong girl she used to be. She was happy there. She wasn't mudblood there. She was... Hermione.  
  
"Well, well. What have we here mudblood? Do you think you look good in those clothes huh? Think you look stylish? Cool? God look at your eyeliner mudblood. You look like a cross between a panda and like a Goth. you look like death" she didn't care what they were saying really. What got to her was the fact that whatever she said he would have something wittier and more cutting to say back, she was trapped before she said anything. She felt manipulated and humiliated and she could do nothing about this dick they call Draco Malfoy in front of her. She felt about the size of matchstick and felt as if she was being snapped in half. People were starting to crowd around to watch. It was strange there were around 50 people encircling her and Malfoy, yet not one of them helped. Some of these people had used to be her friends before she lost her place in the golden trio. Its horrifying how fickle people are "oh god mudblood where did you get your face, I mean ugh, I mean ugh. Just look... actually don't. And by fuck you smell! Ever heard of washing! You smell like shit mudblood" it was getting more and more childish with every word. She just kept thinking "you stupid immature prick! How old are you like 5!" and yet they all hit her blow after blow. Whoever created the phrase "sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me" should be dug up and shot she thought. She would have preferred them to hit her. Get it over and done with. They hit her, she falls down, hurts for a week, and its over. Words stay with you always. Follow you wherever you go. There is no escape from words.  
  
"Where are your friends then huh? Who are you waiting for? Where are they? Oh wait. Sorry I forgot YOU DONT HAVE ANY FRIENDS!" That was when Hermione got to "that" point. The point when you're being bullied and they finally break you. There are two options from this point. The old Hermione would have taken the first option and punched that bastard right in the face. But she wasn't the old Hermione. She wasn't even the Hermione that she was outside school. It was even worse than that. She wasn't even Hermione here. No one talked to her except the teachers who called her "Miss Granger" and this prick who called her "Mudblood". She wasn't even Granger to him any more. That name had been abandoned long ago. Here she was Mudblood Granger, and Mudblood Granger took the second option.  
  
"Oh look the Mudblood is crying" wow she thought. I've now been demoted to "the mudblood". I'm not even human anymore. Not that I've ever been human to him the stuck up pureblooded wanker. You need to stop Hermione. Don't let him see you cry. He doesn't deserve this! Look at him he's enjoying it.  
  
And he was. That ever fixed smirk widened across his pale face making him look perfectly demonic. His unnaturally platinum blond hair was falling into his eyes, so that his penetrating grey eyes leered through the shadow with delicious delight at her pain. He was now an impressive 6'2" and therefore towered over Hermione making her feel even smaller. It was evident that quidditch had done his body good as it had built him up so that he wasn't overly muscular, yet was still fit. He was by definition extremely attractive physically. You would definitely be able to go as far as to say that he was hot. And Hermione hated him even more for this. He can't just let me hate him in peace can he! He has to make me be slightly attracted to him even though I hate his guts just to confuse me. He did it on purpose!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Her sobbing was becoming uncontrollable now. She bowed her head, allowing her hair to fall and curtain her off from the dancing steel eyes. It wasn't enough though. His words still seared through her barrier. She couldn't handle it. The tears were rolling down her cheeks in black streams as her makeup slowly made its way down her face. She was weak and he knew it. Tears meant nothing to him. There was no limit to him. I have to say something! She thought furiously. He has to know that I wont just sit and take this. This is ridiculous come on Hermione! You are so much better than him! He is just a spoilt little pureblood rich boy and if you just stand here and take this he will do it for the rest of the year!  
  
"Oh shut up Malfoy" that's it? That's all you can come up with! Oh very original Hermione now we all know why you are the cleverest in the year. And we all know exactly what he will say don't we. We have all seen this situation before.  
  
"Make me mud blood. What are you going to do about it huh? Make me stop! What are you going to do" Hermione's mind went blank. The only words that came to her were two small words that repeated over and over again. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit... "Nothing and that's the point" the word just came out before she could stop them. What the fuck are you talking about you fool! I'm you and even I don't get that! "What?" oh god everybody's looking at me. Their eyes are burning me. I can't stand this, I just can't. It was then that Hermione admitted defeat. With that she turned and ran full pelt down the station and onto the train to the sound of Draco Malfoy and his cronies jeering and laughing at her. The compartment was empty so she flung herself down on the seat and sobbed into the cushions. "Ill never forgive him ill never forgive any of them. I wish I was dead, I wish they were dead!" she started to hyperventilate. "Ok Hermione calm down. Calm down Hermione!" but she couldn't, the pain was rushing around her head and she new that there was one way of stopping it. She quickly checked around the compartment to make sure that there was definitely no one there and when she was sure she slipped her hand into her blue shoulder bag and pulled out, a penknife. 


	2. The beauty of blood

Chapter 2: the beauty of blood.  
  
Hermione twirled the Swiss army penknife in her fingers and started to go over the reasons for not doing what she new she was going to do. Right Hermione lets just go over these to be able to say I thought about it. I know that this is stupid and that I am just damaging myself. I probably am just doing this for attention so that if anyone saw the scars they would go "Hermione what are you doing! Don't worry ill save you!" but what would be the point of that seeing as no one would care if I slash my throat. I am just going in a downward spiral seeing as my life is not going to change any time soon. I do this to let the physical pain block out the mental pain. And you know what, it's worked this far! I don't see why it should be any different now! There we go I've thought about the bad points of this so now I am sanely hurting myself. I am still in control. I could stop if I want to. But at the moment I don't so I won't. See I'm in control of this.  
  
She slid her right arm up and held her elbow for a while, waiting for the train to start so that she would not be disturbed. She started to get excited. Her breathing became even more ragged than before and she started to get light headed.  
  
She grabbed hold of the baggage rail to steady herself and stuck her head out the window for some air and realised that their were no students on the platform, just a crowd of parents with a few younger siblings clinging to parents hands looking enviously at the train.  
  
Hermione recalled how exciting it had been to find out that she was a witch. At her muggle school she had been cast out for being "too clever" as many clever people are. She had been so glad to get out of there. To start afresh in a new world where everyone was gifted. Were everyone was equal. She had learned all too quickly that every society has a class system, and in this society, she found she was at the bottom of the pile seeing as she had two muggle parents so was, as Malfoy so eloquently put it, a mudblood. Her first five years in this magical world had been perfect for her, yes she had nearly died several times as she had been friends with his famousness, Harry Potter, who found it impossible not to play the hero. Her only flaw had been that prick, but she could handle him then. That was before they all left her, when she wasn't ready to grow up. She realised she could be in a group of people and still be completely alone. She realised that she was empty and that there was a pain inside her that needed to be countered.  
  
The train jerked into motion slowly, gaining speed. The parents on the platform started waving madly and Hermione could see other students leaning out of compartment windows along the train waving back. Hermione didn't. Her parents had not come to wave her off. They had more important things to do. They had to see that Jennifer, Hermione's older sister, had all the things she had left behind. Hermione didn't mind that her parents had deserted her on her first day of her last year. She was used to rejection.  
  
The train was leaving behind the sight of the station and was slipping into a constant speed. She was just about to slip back inside the compartment when she saw the back of a platinum blonde head and her breath caught in her throat. Flashes of the previous events on the platform flickered in front of her. A single painful tear, streaked down her face and she snapped her head back into the compartment, slamming the window shut and pulling the compartment door blinds down.  
  
She squeezed the penknife in her hand, and shut her eyes, swaying on the spot for a bit. It was all too much. The images kept flickering, each one causing her stomach to clench in shame and humiliation. Memories of today's events brought up older memories. Her parents yelling at her, rejection at her muggle school, rejection at hog warts, not being good enough, the list went on. It seemed endless. Each image stabbing her until she clutched her stomach and fell on the chair, unable to stand any longer. The tears kept rolling. She held up the penknife and pulled down the small blade from the case. The metal glinted invitingly at her and she affectionately ran a finger down the flat of the blade. As corny as it sounds the blade was the only friend she had. It was the only thing that brought comfort to her, apart from her dreams. She dug out her Disc man and played the song. She had to. She couldn't do this in silence. It would make everything too real.  
  
*He spent his whole life being too young, to live the life that's in his dreams.*  
  
She inspected her elbow tracing over the three dots in a triangle formation. She figured if she kept the scars small no one would find out and she would delude herself into thinking that she wasn't self harming.  
  
*At night he lies awake and he wonders, "Why can't that be me?"*  
  
She always kept to the dots. They were her comfort zone.  
  
*Cause in his life he's lived with all these good intentions*  
  
She would never cut her wrists. No one would expect her to cut her elbows. No one would look there, not that they cared enough to look, but she felt safer slitting her elbows rather than her wrists.  
  
*He's left a lot of things he'd rather not mention right now. *  
  
She turned the blade upside down resting the tip of the blade on her skin.  
  
*Just before he says goodnight, he looks up with a little smile at me. *  
  
She guided the tip to one of the dots and started to increase the pressure slowly twisting the blade into her skin.  
  
*He says: If I cud be like that, I would give any thing. *  
  
The stinging pain makes her gasp with relief.  
  
*Just to live one day in those shoes. *  
  
She moves onto the next dot with more force this time.  
  
*If I could be like that what would I do? *  
  
On the third dot she spins the blade into her skin.  
  
*What would I do? *  
  
She looks closely at the wounds. Waiting. Patiently waiting. Then it came. Blood oozed from the abused wounds, forming crimson wells on each dot. The fierce beauty of blood amazed Hermione every time. She could just look at it for hours it was that beautiful. If the tears were not already streaming down her cheeks, its beauty would have caused her to weep.  
  
Just focus on the pain of the dots Hermione. Focus on the dots. Forget them all. Forget them all. There are only these dots and there always will be. The crimson triangle is all that there is.  
  
There was a knock on the compartment door. Hermione hastily covered her left elbow and dried her tears. She was still all splotchy from the tears but in the short time she had it would have to do. The door slowly creaked open, and a grey head craned its way round the door.  
  
"Miss Granger, I need to speak to you immediately." 


	3. Wading through treacle

Disclaimer: - I do not own any of these characters just the new spin, they are J K Rowling's' and hers alone.  
  
A/N:- terribly, terribly sorry for the delay, I wrote the first 2 chapters a long time before posting them so it was difficult to recapture the frame of mind I was in the day I wrote them, but fortunately I refound my muse. Hope you like them!  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Chapter 3 - wading through treacle.  
  
Professor McGonagall led Hermione down the train in a stuffy silence. Endless possibilities ran through Hermione's head. What if she is leading me to professor Dumbledore so that he can expel me! What did I do! What if they have found out! Maybe my grades were not good enough! My parents were right! Oh god! I'm in so much trouble.  
  
She grabbed her elbow, squeezing the angry cuts sending delicious pain up her arm to try and calm herself, but it didn't work. The panic was rising up her throat and she was finding it difficult keep her legs from trembling. Tears were beginning to prick the backs of her eyelids again and she desperately fought to keep them down. She kept her face to the ground but Professor McGonagall took no notice of her anyway. She had lost interest in her since Hermione had lost herself. She managed to attain the highest marks in the year, but no longer with such finesse and purpose. She was no longer her star pupil.  
  
They reached the end of the train and came to a compartment where the door had not glass, but a beautiful mahogany door with the Hogwarts crest on it that she had never noticed. She figured it must be charmed so that no one knows its there to keep it private. Hermione used to love that crest. Each animal had looked so righteous and noble (except the serpent of course) all representing that there is at least one place on this earth that is safe and good. The motto now looks corny; the lion false, the badger comical, the eagle cold and the serpent just looked on at her with those cruel silver eyes...  
  
"Miss Granger?" she was snatched out of her thoughts by the pinched voice of Professor McGonagall. She was looking at her with an air of impatience, quirking a plucked eyebrow. "Sorry" Hermione whispered blushing to the very roots of her chestnut hair. Her eyes brimmed with tears but did not spill. She swallowed the painful lump in her throat. It felt like some one had rammed a smooth stone down it.  
  
She took a deep breath and slowly knocked on the door. "Ahh yes, come in Miss Granger." Oh god it IS Dumbledore! I'm going to be expelled! Professor McGonagall opened the door and Hermione looked around the room puzzled. It was just a normal study. There was a strong wooden desk (strangely with no chair behind it), walls mostly covered by bookshelves and paintings wherever there was space. She seated herself in one of the chairs that faced the desk, wondering where the voice came from whilst Professor McGonagall sat in the other. She sat there looking at her shoes when a voice said "so Miss Granger, I trust that you are well?" She almost jumped out of her seat as she looked up to the painting in front of her behind the desk where Professor Dumbledore was twinkling back at her.  
  
"I... I am quite well thank-you Professor" she stuttered back Professor Dumbledore chuckled at her and tapped his long fingers on the picture frame. "Good, good. I have some very good news for you Miss Granger; you are to be our new head girl".  
  
'Oh' thought Hermione. 'Oh god, Head girl. Oh no.'  
  
"Now with this new position comes a lot of power and a lot of prestige, but also a lot of hard work. You are in charge of all students and represent the school and although your new duties will take up quite a bit of time, you must not let your impressive marks slip. Remember, you are representing the school, so do not let us down"  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
She was now back in her lonely carriage staring at the wall. She now has to cope with being a social outcast, keeping her marks high above everyone else's, all of the duties being head girl would bring and the humiliation that HE brought her. Now that she was head girl how would she hide from everyone? She was now stuck in the spotlight. She felt like she was in a gold fish bowl, unable to get out and unable to stop the eyes burning into her. She changed into her school uniform and robes with a sense of dread. This year was not starting well at all. All the pressure was too much. There was no escape and she felt trapped.  
  
The train screeched to a halt catapulting her back into her seat. 'Back again' she thought. She grabbed her shoulder bag with her disc man, pen knife and purse in and left her compartment. As she left the train she saw two familiar tall figures.  
  
One had messy black hair, glasses and a thin white scar shaped like a lightning bolt down the middle of his fore head. He was sooo proud of it. Without it he would be like anyone else. The other had flame red hair and was even taller than the other boy. You could see that he longed to be like the other boy by the way that he copied him in every way. Hermione was sure that he would carve a lightning scar down the middle of his forehead if he had the courage.  
  
Those had been the boys that she had known so well and had loved as much as it was possible to love a friend. They had loved her back at one point in just the same way. Pride is a cruel thing like so many other things in this world. It had turned two pure brave boys into shallow ego pushers. Their fixation with their own glory had made them forget what it had been that they were fighting for. Voldemort had long since been defeated and they fought to keep their fresh hero facade. She missed them so much it tore her inside but she dare not approach them. They had left her years ago, when they found others to satisfy their new needs more than she could, and now saw her as nothing. She saw the black haired boy sling his arm roughly around a pretty blonde girl who simpered and giggled at him sickeningly. 'Harry, why?' she thought. She still did not understand fully why Harry and Ron had left her. They had been through so much together.  
  
As she walked past them they sneered at her and sniggered. Yes she was nothing to them now.  
  
The sorting ceremony passed in a blur. She did not care who got in to Gryffindor. She wouldn't ever talk to them so why should she. No one would know that she is head girl until the next day so she could hide behind her invisible barrier of silence for now. She pushed her food around her plate not hungry. Her stomach was twisting at the prospect of having to get up in front of the whole school tomorrow morning. At the end of the feast she left the hall with the password to her new room. At least I won't have to share with lavender, Pavarti and the rest of the Harry worshippers she thought.  
  
She didn't take in any of her surroundings. She walked straight through the circular common room not even checking who the new head boy was. She went to the door on the right of the bathroom as she had been told to and walked into her new room and sat on the bed with her head in her hands. The thoughts were circling in her mind again as they had before. The images coursed through her body making her shake violently.  
  
She reached into her trunk and dug down into the bottom of it. Suddenly the tips of her fingers hit the item she was looking for. She wrapped her fingers around the cold glass and pulled it free of her belongings. She looked at the bottle of clear liquid and swirled it slowly round the bottle. That will make it all go away. That will make me forget.  
  
She hungrily unscrewed the top and swallowed a mouthful of vodka. She spluttered on the harsh taste but persevered. She took another sip before swallowing the whole bottle. It hit her empty stomach and she was promptly sick. Good, she thought, now it will all go away.  
  
A/N: - sorry that wasn't a very good chapter and not really worth the wait but its one of those linking chapters. Thanks to all my reviewers I hope this chapter isn't too disappointing, but rest assured, the next chapter is on its way soon if not instantly. 


	4. Spin away

Disclaimer: - I do not own any of these characters just the new spin, they are J K Rowling's' and hers alone.  
  
A/N: Hey again. I'm not completely sure about this chapter yet so it mite be altered a bit. If you have any suggestions please review and I will try my best.  
  
Chapter 4 - Spin away  
  
The room swirled. The bottle fell from her hand empty and smashed onto the floor. She thought her problems would all swirl away with the colours but they were magnified. The images of the past events started to flick again. Bang! Nine years old, sitting by herself in the playground at break time. Bang! Ten years old, another humiliation. Bang! Twelve years old hiding in the library again. Bang! Thirteen years old, cruel pranks on Valentines Day. Bang! Fourteen years old, alone on a Saturday. Bang! His face. This time she didn't have the strength or coordination to release her problems the way she always did.  
  
She curled onto the floor painfully as her knees could no longer hold her. This was not supposed to happen. She used to have so many prospects, but not anymore. When she had her friends she had all these plans of who she would be and how, but now they were all forgotten. She barely knew how she was going to cope with the next day let alone the rest of her life. Where was she going? If she didn't know how the hell would anyone else? I guess there were some who knew exactly where she was going but she still never to listen to them because whenever she did, another piece of the shred of hope for herself, that she had so painstakingly collected, was ripped away from her.  
  
They all knew she was nothing. They all knew she had no purpose and no point. No destination. Now and again they still say that she is clever, but what is the point in knowledge when you are not going anywhere? She is going in circles, just hurting herself to numb the pain, drinking to pass the time and not eating to fill the emptiness. Where she is going no one knows and perhaps they will never know. She is now on the floor whilst the room is still spinning. The colours are getting faster and it feels like she is on a merry go round that is out of control. There she goes, just waiting to fall.  
  
Fat tears squeeze down her face unceasingly, raining down her cheeks in a storm. The colours are getting darker, the shapes more rapid. 'Why did they all leave me?' she thought. She had done nothing wrong. She had just dared to not wish to grow up. Not yet. She desperately clinged to her youth, which was so rapidly slipping through her fingers.  
  
The colours are getting further and reality is lost. She can't tell the difference between the fantastical and the harsh reality. The colours are getting old and now she is lost. She's been lost for a long time because there is no longer any one to guide her. Hermione is trapped in the wilderness of her own mind and is forced to walk forever alone except in her dreams. "No more please! I beg you!" she cries. She thrashes about on the floor in desperation, taking no notice of the bruises she is inflicting on herself when she hits the furniture. She tries to stand but fails. She tries again but fails. If at first you don't succeed, you shouldn't have tried in the first place. If at first you don't succeed, you were not good enough to have made it. If at first you don't succeed, how dare you have failed! Those were the philosophies that she had been taught. Those were the philosophies that she had always believed.  
  
She rolled onto her back slowly and drew in three deep breaths. "Get a hold of your self Hermione" she thought. She tried to focus but her pupils were too dilated. She crawled to the bed and hauled herself up onto the red and gold silk sheets. 'Gryffindor colours' she thought. 'House of the brave and the loyal. The sorting hat must have been high the year that sorted my year of Gryffindor's. If Gryffindor's are so loyal, how come I am all alone? If Gryffindor's are so brave, then how come I am so pathetic?' Her knees and elbows were bleeding because she had crawled over the broken glass and now her blood was smeared all over the wooden floor, but she didn't care. She rejoiced at the pain, because it made her feel alive.  
  
In her wonderland of colours, she became aware of the common room door being opened. 'It must be the head boy. Of course he won't come in here why would he?' but she heard the foot steps getting closer and closer. 'Oh shit! He can't see me when I'm like this! I can't even sit up! And shit I'm bleeding!' She tried to move so that she could lock the door, but it was too late. The handle was already turning. In her hurry and confusion, Hermione toppled off the bed sharply onto the floor, as the door opened. "Guess whooo!" a voice said and a face peered round the door. He stared at her and she stared at him and they gasped. No way!  
  
A/N hope you liked it. I managed to finish it way earlier than I thought I would. Sorry to leave you on a cliff hanger but it seemed to be the place that I should stop. Please review, constructive criticism is welcome. 


	5. Just five seconds in time

A/N I am really sorry for the delay, its been ages since I last posted anything, and I doubt I have anyone actually left who remembers my fan fiction is here, and those of you who are here will probably leave after this chapter. Stay with me! I have a plan... sort of. Please review!  
  
Disclaimer-: I do not and will never own any of the characters, only the plotline and he new spin.  
  
Chapter 5: Just five seconds of time  
  
The scene lingered as though set in stone. She lay on the floor looking at him; he stood in the doorway staring down at her. The glass glinted red from the blood it had ripped out of Hermione and the furniture was out of place with her books strewn across the floor, pages missing, where she had knocked them from the table.  
  
Her robes lay discarded on the floor leaving her in her school skirt and blouse. Her knees and arms were badly cut up from the glass and her hair had muddled itself up into a worried tangle. She had now cried all the make up from her face leaving her pale (well, paler). She still struggled to support herself as she tried to gain some composure. Her pupils are still dilated and she still struggled to focus though now with more purpose. 'how cud I have forgotten to lock the door! Gain composure Hermione! He might not have noticed!' As she leans against the bed, sitting up a little straighter whilst shaking her head (and quickly wishing she hadn't) she tried to think of something to say that would relieve the situation a bit 'think Hermione!' she screamed to herself 'he cant see u like this!' The situation was pretty much laid bare in front of him. She swallowed hoping that she could swallow her apparent fear as well.  
  
"I had a little accident," she slurred whilst the blood soaked up the sleeve of her blouse. Oh well done Hermione. Round of applause, don't state the obvious. Her mind was clouded by the cotton confusion. She couldn't keep straight thought in her memory for more than five seconds and her head was thumping.  
  
He said nothing. He simply stood there framed in the doorway. He surveyed the room and then his eyes rested on Hermione. He didn't need to say anything. His reaction was written all over his face.  
  
A/N Ok don't kill me, I promise ill tell u next chapter who it is, u can probably guess (or try to) anyway. You never know it might be Neville! Also don't kill me on the shortness, I know its been like ages since I posted my last thing so in theory this chapter should be the length of the amber spyglass, but I had muse troubles as you might have guessed.  
  
To my reviewees!:  
  
Face food-: Thanks, thanks thanks ill try my best.  
  
Elanorevenstar-: I like your poems they are very deep and passionate keep on writing  
  
Delores Wilson-: Hey! Thanks for your reviews, its nice to see a familiar face now and again. Really sorry bout my poor msn spelling. I speak it a lot so it becomes automatic after a while and sneaks its way into my important essays. Tis VERY annoying I know.  
  
Aaron -: I don't think that Harry or Ron are really goin to be in this fic that much because I find it hard to write bout them, I don't know why, I just don't really get on with them very well, but don't worry you see them now and again, and who knows they may be featured later depending on where the story takes me  
  
Sinking slowly -: Lol thanks and sorry about cliffhangers, but it keeps ya reading!  
  
Love-: Thanks sorry bout the wait, I have time management problems.  
  
Taichi Kitsune -:Thanks for the advice and again sorry about the spelling, ill do my best to keep it down. Also I'm taking French AS so its properly shameful that I'm mixing up tenses but I have real problems with it, I was never really taught grammar. Keep with me!  
  
Bluejello86-: Yaaay another familiar face, thanks hun ur stories are great. Anyone here who likes star gate read her stories.  
  
x00xBaDrEpUtAtIoNx00x -: Thanx its nice to think people can relate to my stories, keep reading and keep reviewing ur lovely!  
  
Darklady/Harrypotterluvr-: sorry I haven't emailed you, my email is being a bit of a (think of a less foul word) mongoose at the moment.  
  
In dreams-: thanks a lot. I actually wrote the first two chapters a year ago, when I was a bit... well anyway thanks. 


	6. It's about power

Disclaimer-: I do not and will never own any of the characters, only the plotline and he new spin.  
  
A/N: - Hey again, sorry this took like a month to write and that for a month its like a fraction of the length it should be. Probably all the people who have reviewed for me have given up on me. I promise (well will try really, really hard) to get longer chapters up quicker, but I'm wrestling with school at the moment (give me a chance I'm only 16!) as well as trying to keep sane and keep on top of things. Sorry ill stop moaning to you all now (though its what I do best). The next chapter relieves you from the past two cliffhangers so I hope you'll be happy. Hope you like. Review or I wont post the next chapter Mwah ha ha ha. Constructive criticism welcomed.  
  
It's about power  
  
He paced towards her, his steps calculatingly lazy. He kept his eyes fixed on her, gazing at her in all her disarray. He looked at the blood on her clothes, the remnants of the bottle smashed over the floor and the fuzziness of her fear. All this chaotic misery reflected in his cruel silver eyes.  
  
"Draco please..."  
  
"Well, well, well, what have we here? Seems the mudblood has finally fallen from her pedestal, what's the matter mudblood, having problems?"  
  
Fresh tears trickled into her eyes, pricking the backs of her eyelids. This cant be happening!  
  
He moved closer and closer keeping his eyes set on her. His initial reaction had been one of shock and surprise but now the cruel coolness was back, unfazed. He paced closer and closer and through her fear and hazy stupor she felt the cold realisation that something was severely wrong with the way he was taking this. The tone in his voice was unnervingly cheerful like it had never been before and his eyes were glinting in the fire that was throwing shadows over the room.  
  
"What will Dumbledore say when he finds out his perfect little pupil is a fucking drunken whore?"  
  
"I am not a whore" Hermione spat back. Drunken maybe she thought but I am definitely not a whore.  
  
"No you are even too hideous for that aren't you, but I must say mudblood I am surprised. I had no idea there was this side of you. Dirty and disgusting but surprising none the less I mean drinking is fine but on your own! I mean god! How pathetic can you get, this is truly a new low."  
  
She knew this of course. Again this didn't stop it hurting. Why could he do this to her? How could he do this to her? Reduce her to a pile of nothing with no thought of what to say, just the pain, the panic and the two small words that circled endlessly in her had "oh shit oh shit oh shit..." she strained her head up, making herself look back, show some defiance. She felt none of it but it was worth a try.  
  
What she saw when she looked up was Malfoy a lot closer than she expected. A lot closer then felt bearable, too close for comfort. He towered over her and she caught a glimpse of something in his eyes that frightened her more than hate cruelty or spite. In his eyes she saw power. I t flashed in his irises giving him a high that made him feel stronger. It made him feel good. He had of course had power over her before all those times. That's one of the reasons why he did what he did to Hermione and so many others. It wasn't just a case of pure cruelty. He was a power junky, he fed on the weak with a thirst that was unquenchable.  
  
As Malfoy looked down at the muddled broken girl he didn't see her as anything but a toy. She was just something for him to destroy and something without a soul or feelings. Why should he even think of her, she was just another hit to feed his obsession? It was not really to do with her. It was purely and truthfully about power. Well in part. Just looking into her eyes, feeling her loneliness, her grief, her panic... it made his head sing.  
  
He smiled at her and held out his hand, moving it slowly towards her. "What the fuck is he doing!" she thought, "Why is he moving even closer! What is he doing! I don't understand! I can't bear him to touch me!" she desperately tried to move out of his reach but was only able to move a few inches. Not far enough.  
  
His fingers touched a wound on her arm and pain rocketed through her. She did not want this. Usually she welcomed pain with open arms but she didn't want to take any thing from him. He looked at his hand and rubbed her blood between his fingers. She stared at him, eyes wide with a mixture of horror and disgust.  
  
He pushed his hand into her face smearing her blood on her cheek and lips  
  
"Look! It's filthy! It is you and all you others who are steadily contaminating us. There are hardly any true wizards left. You do realise you aren't a witch don't you" He knelt down next to the bed resting his elbows on the bed pushing his face even closer to Hermione's, she started to recoil back but he grabbed her face painfully. "...All the grades and magic you perform is a mockery, a farce! You are like a performing animal. Amusing, funny yes but none the less completely useless. There is no wizard blood that runs in your veins, can you see. It is disgusting, ugly. I shall not rest until all of the dirty blood is drained from the body of every mudblood, half blood and muggle, until only the true are left."  
  
Well he's going to be awake a long time then.  
  
Hermione bowed her head. Don't let him say this! Don't believe a word. It's not true!  
  
He was still holding her face so tightly Hermione thought he would break her jaw. He was now searching her face in a satisfied yet greedy manner. She had never seen him like this before. She was still in shock from the fact that he was touching he. Her eyes were wide with fear, and her heart was up in her throat, pounding rapidly. He was so close and yet so calm. What is going on!  
  
"So mudblood, give me a damn good reason why I shouldn't go and alert, let me think, everyone of your current state? Cause I can see no reason. What's in it for me."  
  
"Ermm..." Oh god... "Ermmm..." What do I say! There is no reason! I have nothing to give him! He has all the money he could ever need, he doesn't need my help in school, and I don't have any thing that he could want.  
  
"Well if you are not going to give me anything, I think I will make a quick trip to Dumbledore's office. Enjoy your last night in this school mudblood"  
  
"Wait!" Hermione flung herself at him clinging to the hem of his robes, which he quickly snatched from her grasp leaving her collapsed on the floor "please what do you want. Ill give you anything I can just please don't get me expelled from this school. It's the only thing I have" 'barely' she thought.  
  
Malfoy turned at this and looked down at her with interest. Maybe that was a bad idea she thought. His smirk widened and his eyes flashed with triumph. He extended his hand again and lifted her chin. "I'm sure I will think of something. I own you now mudblood. You are mine." He threw her face down with a spark of pleasure in his eyes. He now had all the power he could want, well it would do for now, with her now he would be able to satisfy whatever thirst he needed. "not that I really want you but that is the best that you will ever be able to do."  
  
He swept over to the door and looked down at her with a look of disgust. "Oh and wash your face mudblood, remember your nothing, and you never will be. You will live and die alone, I promise you that"  
  
With that he stormed out slamming her door swiftly behind him. Hermione dragged herself to the door and locked it slamming her fists weakly into the door and resting her forehead against it. Big help that will do now Hermione. What the hell just happened! How could she have been so stupid! What could he possibly want from her?  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A/N:- That didn't quite go to plan but oh well. It's a little bit longer than the last one anyway. Next chapter should be up soonish (if everything goes to plan).  
  
To my reviewers:  
  
Delores Wilson: Write a fan fiction! I would recommend it to anyone, with or without experience! Well you now know if you were right or not!  
  
andylawrenceishot07: hey glad you liked it. Yay we have the power of fan fiction!  
  
Bluejello86:well thanks hunny! I just babble on really. It's a bit overkill but its just my style.  
  
In Dreams: Yeah sorry bout the shortness, I just couldn't make it any longer with out diluting the effect so shortness and yeah ive lost the flow a bit, that's why its taking so long, and the fact I have no spare time (damn life!). Keep reviewing! Thanks! 


	7. The burn of his touch

Disclaimer: - I do not own any of these characters just the new spin, they are J K Rowling's' and hers alone.  
  
A/N: Back again. I apologize so, so much about the massive delay. I know I say this like every time I post although the delay this time was a lot longer than usual. I've had my parents on my back bout uni's, exams looming, French oral not being ready at all (imagine being recorded for 12 minutes talking about a subject that you have no idea about in French!) and coursework deadlines being fucked up therefore meaning I have to work into the wee small hours of the morning. And those are the least of my problems but I won't bore you anymore with those. To add insult to injury I couldn't even purge my troubles by inflicting them on you poor people. I completely lost my muse. Id just write, like a page, read it back to myself and think what! What's going on here! It's like losing the ability to speak or cry. I may be over reacting but it was heartbreaking. I'm sure many of you out there know what I mean. If there are any of you left any way, it has been a while, I wouldn't blame you. Sorry to be moaning at you all, I do it a lot. So yeah don't expect this chapter to be anything special, but please review! It will make me happy ( happy smiley face! If no one reviews I shall write no more and you won't hear anymore from me. Oh god no ones going to review now! Review, review, review!  
  
Chapter 7:- The burn of his touch  
  
The sun crept over the room in a golden curtain, drenching the room in sunlight. The forest was ringing with ironic birdsong. That forest was a place filled with many evils yet such simple beauty could still resonate from it. It's always surprising how such breathtaking beauty can emerge from even the darkest of places.  
  
The sunlight hit the eyelids of the sleeping girl, whose for once untroubled face sighed with dreamless sleep. She struggled to keep the uncomplicated clarity but again reality won. She uncurled herself under the red and gold covers which blazed in the morning sun. Her chestnut hair fanned across the pillow shining its flaming highlights.  
  
She kicked the covers off, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she did so, and walked towards the window, glaring at the curtains that she had forgotten to close the night before, and threw open the window. A smile crept into the corners of her lips; these were the moments that tipped the balance into making life worth living. Those precious moments before the troubles of the every day come out to play. She breathed in the fresh air and relished the lightness within her; she wouldn't say she was particularly a morning person though she wouldn't say she was a night person either. She was a person who longed for happy simplicity. Unfortunately she knew that she could never have that. Life was complicated and life was a fight, she just had to hold onto the precious moments that held back her hand from striking.  
  
As she stepped back a small shard of glass pierced her foot causing her automatically sit down on the floor, onto more glass. "Ow, ow, ow" she squeaked as she delicately picked the shard out of her foot. When it was out she held it in the palm of her hand and looked at it. She could have sworn it had felt bigger. Glass? Why is there glass on my floor? For the first time that morning, Hermione surveyed her room. It looked as if it had been frantically torn apart. The rug was folded over and over, the chair was knocked down and the contents of the table were strewn across the floor. Glass... Glass... Oh god... the bottle... the alcohol... the floor... the blood... the bed... and... oh god! OH GOD NO! Hermione ran to the bathroom and was violently sick. Every muscle in her body contorted with such force it felt like something within her was trying to turn her inside out. Sweat trickled down her temples and mingled with the bitter, salty tears. Him. He had happened last night. The full force of last night's alcohol usage was finally catching up with her and the full hopeless horror was now thrust upon her.  
  
What the hell had she done? She had given herself to Him. What the hell was he going to do? What possible use could he find in her, she had nothing to give him? Horrible visions passed through her mind, what if he was going to use her to practice hexes, or perhaps she was going to have to become his personal house elf, following him around every where. Perhaps he was going to inflict every aspect of his hatred for non magical folk on her.  
  
As she clung wretchedly to the toilet seat, desperately trying to keep her hair out of the way, her fingers fell upon a deep, ugly gash which made another cold realisation fall on her. She stood up unsteadily and cautiously made her way to the small mirror on the wall. In the mirror, was reflected her face, pale, lost and young looking. Her hair was muddled up into an unsightly, confused mess, but that she didn't care about, for flashed across her face was blood, now crusted brown. The stains all joined together to form what was unmistakably, a handprint. "His hands" She whispered, the sound echoing eerily off the white tiles of the bathroom walls, her eyes now wide with shock "they are still on me. He is still so close" She closed her eyes tight, but he was still less than 10 metres away, asleep in the next room, so close. Or was he asleep? He said he would not rest until every drop of blood was drained from every muggle-born, half blood and muggle. Maybe he's outside the door waiting for me to come out. Just waiting to bring himself that one step closer to sleep.  
  
Tears squeezed through her closed eyelids. Maybe it would be better if he did. She looked down to her arm and saw the cut. He had dared to touch her there, him, His Pureblood Mightiness dared to touch her, the lowest foulest creature ever to him. He had got so close to her, she remembered his breath had been on her face and she had seen the steely flecks flash in his pitiless eyes. "Well, he has all his power now" she whispered to herself falling dejectedly back onto the floor, bringing the back of her hand up to wipe her mouth, as she did this she noticed that she was still in her blood soaked school uniform which was now stained brown. "Oh fucking hell!" Hermione screamed and frantically stripped them off and through them across the room.  
  
The blood was not beautiful or comforting as she had found it so many times before when she had so willingly drawn it from herself. She squeezed one of the wounds, waiting for the calming rush but brought back was just the cold memory of him that pressed at the base of her chest almost like guilt. She still felt the touch of his skin on hers from the night before. It had felt like ice yet still had burned afterwards in a way that even pain shouldn't. He had only touched that one cut and then her face, only for a second, he hadn't caused all the blood, he hadn't forced the alcohol down her throat, yet she still felt so violated by him.  
  
People always think that the offence has to massive against another person for it to hurt them, such as the incident on the station, he hadn't hit her, he didn't take the time out of his busy schedule to do it every time he saw her, but it had hit her hard. People don't seem to get that the action doesn't have to be overstated or ostentatious to make an impact. A single phrase, hell a single word can stay with someone for their entire lives. Hermione knew this too well. She had a lot of phrases that hung around in her mind. She had a lot of unhappy memories that would plague her. She probably had a few that she had subconsciously repressed that would swoop down on her when the most trivial of events triggered them.  
  
Hermione couldn't breath. He was suddenly all over her. She could feel his eyes on her again. She could feel his breath on her face. His hold on her left her smothered and Hermione desperately grasped at her skin, so hard that she left even more red marks. She caught another of the wounds and it started to weep again "fuck it" she cursed and retrieved her wand out of her shirt pocket. Muttering a simple healing charm she flicked the wand back to the pile of clothes. The wounds were gone, the blood was gone, but he wasn't. He was all over her skin. She had to get him off her! She ran to the shower and threw it on not even waiting for the water to warm up, leaving it icy cold.  
  
She felt herself spiralling down. The freezing water was burning her skin, just like his touch. She scraped at her skin, trying to rid herself of everything, but all she did was feel like she was spreading the sensation, the horror, and the guilt. The realisation came to her again. She had given him her soul. She had given him his power. She was now his. There was no escape, no hope.  
  
She weakly leaned back against the white, tiled shower wall and held her head in her hands, tears silently streaming down her face. "This wasn't supposed to happen" she repeated over and over again. She crept rubbing her arms harder and harder, desperately trying to get clean. She felt utterly hopeless.  
  
When she started to shiver violently she finally stood up and wrapped herself in a dressing gown. She looked around the bathroom. There was a bath with even more taps than the prefects' bath and that was probably a third bigger. The floor was mostly smooth marble, covered in parts by soft red bath mats. There was only one picture on the wall, one of a beautiful, white cat with blue eyes that was seated on a throne looking chair. Oh crookshanks, if only I still had you. You at least were always there for me. Crookshanks now though was too old to bring to school. When things had been bad he always had known, and come to comfort her. She could just curl up with him in her arms and feel his warmth against her, and know that she wasn't alone. Maybe if she still had him she wouldn't have drunk so much. Maybe if she had him she would have remembered to lock that fucking door. But she didn't and she hadn't. There was nothing that she could do about it now. She didn't have crookshanks, she didn't have Harry, she didn't have Ron and she had got herself into this big mess. It was hopeless.  
  
Even Harry and Ron conjured painful memories now. No! She squeezed her eyes shut. She did not think of that anymore. There was no point. It's all over now it doesn't matter.  
  
She quickly unlocked the door and made her way into the common room, carrying her clothes and wand under her arm. "Sleep well mudblood?" Not now Malfoy she thought. She turned round to see him standing a few feet away in a pair of black pyjama bottoms and a green t-shirt with his trade mark smirk plastered across his pale face. "You were in there a while, what's wrong? You look like shit! Hard night last night" he sniggered. She screwed her face up into a frown and glared silently at the floor. She never knew what to say around him under normal circumstances so she had even less of an idea now. "So any way, yeah, good morning sunshine" he called over his shoulder on his way into the bathroom, his voice dripping with sarcasm. As he slammed the door closed the tears that she had managed to suppressed ran down her face and she ran to her room and threw herself on the bed. This was going to be a bad day. She now had to go in front of the school and sit on the Gryffindor table. Only this time everyone would see her. Harry and Ron would see her. Now there was nowhere to hide.  
  
A/N:- Bit longer than usual but it has been awhile. Hope you liked it. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome and any suggestions for plot or what you want to see more of would be great! 


End file.
